Saviours of Anacros
by Prophet of the Grove
Summary: All history should be recorded and every tale told – this story is no exception. Originating from the Isle of Nus Ilpmet of the coast of Northrend, this is the tale of the Anacros; a timeless and time-forgotten race of Azeroth. Please Read and Review.


_Authours note: I have created a new language for this story so I have included a Glossary and Pronunciation list at the end of the chapter. Im not sure about the rules on that so please give me a heads up if im not allowed to do this._

**Prologue**

**An Arctic Chill**

The cruel, arctic chill of a Northern breeze swirled fiercely through the Sholazar Basin like a maelstrom swirls its waters. It was a moonless night which only added to the eerie darkness that blanketed the forest floor. All was still and silently, except for the repetitive crunch of armoured boots on the grassy surface. Suddenly, a short but stout soldier spoke out against the silence; his tone coarse from the cold.

"Th's chill is worse th'n the win's of Dun Morogh. I don' like it! The signs are all wrong." The dwarf's concern seemed to echo through the party, everyone was well aware of the chance that this night was not what they had been expecting.

"Aye, I was certain it was un-seasonable warmth that was to greet us this night. The elements do not seem to agree, what should we do mi' Lord?" The human's question seemed to be directed at a slender and elegant creature, an elf of the Highborne. The elf stared thoughtfully to the sky, appearing to absorb the very essence of the wind.

"The timeless ones words were clear enough master Myrand." As he spoke, the elf removed an encrypted scroll from his Mageweave backpack and read.

"On a moonless night you will travel to a place where trees grow tall and proud. Upon this night the world will be unbalanced and the darkness thick. Though look friends and do not despair, for the star of victory will glow its brightest. All this, mortal ones, will guide you to salvation." With a swift flick of his hand, the elf returned the scroll to its home but did not cease in speech.

"Feel it my brothers, these winds come from Al'Akir himself – the elements are restless and to the heavens our star of victory, _Erecniv-Alleb_, glows brighter than I have seen it since the Battle of The Scarab Wall. Tonight, is our ni…." Unexpectedly the winds roes twofold and the air began to fill with juvenile shrieks. The men, spurred on by these omens, raced in the direction of the cries. Eventually they came to a tree and at its roots were three young boys, infants in fact. At the finding of these children, a portal of ethereal green appeared and through it stepped the timeless one, Nogardimus the Ancient. He stood motionless, his slender, elven body was weathered from the unending years spent in it. Pure white, silky hair drooped well past his shoulders and a clean, well groomed beard of the same colour adorned his ancient face. Nogardimus bent down besides the innocents and his mere presence quietened them.

"_seum nonsungam ireup_" he chimed in his native tongue, the language of the timeless, gently patting the middle child. He turned and addressed the party.

"Myrand, Clinn and Lord Nyandeil, I thank you greatly for finding my children for me. Now that we are reunited, father and sons, work can finally begin. Our salvation has arrived." Astonishment donned the faces of the soldiers and Clinn was again to break the silence that developed.

"Beggin' ya pard'n _Sitnegni Retsigam_, but I think I speak fo' all of us when I say, has time finally ravaged ya brain? How ya little-uns gonna save us? They don' look all that special." Clinn was first to speak but the faces held by Myrand and Nyandeil suggested his opinions were not just his own. Nogardimus reacted puzzled for a moment, seeming to get lost in his millennia of memories. For ten minutes he gazed at them, until at last he responded with a rumbling chuckle.

"My students" he said with a smirk. "You seem to be forgetting one of my most important lessons: never underestimate what you don't understand." With that remark the wind again picked up again, only this time the whole world seemed to creak and groan under some invisible strain. Unexpectedly, the tree that sheltered the little children began to glow an unearthly white, blinding the party. The forest floor erupted into blue fire, while the animals and plants of Sholazar gathered around them in audience. Nogardimus raised his arms to the heavens and boomed out his words.

"_SITROM! ETIDNEFED! AUQA!" _With these words the bright glow vanished and the three children were surrounded now by manifestations of Light, Life and Shadow. The first child, blonde of hair, not the youngest nor the eldest, was ablaze with radiant, golden beams of holy light. The second child, deep forest green hair, youngest of the brothers, was surrounded by growth, life, the flora and fauna of the forest. The third child, eldest of the three had hair as black as Deathwing's heart. His body was blanketed with shadow and the earth decayed around him. These were the sons of Nogardimus: Nathanos the Justicaar, Nicolibus the Life-giver and Jaredatus the Death-bringer; the saviours of Anacros

**Glossary:** _seum_ = my, _nonsungam_ = little, _ireup_ = children, _Erecniv-Alleb_ (literal translation) = to conquer war, (common translation) = Victory, _Sitnegni Retsigam_ = Grand Master, _sitrom_ = death,  
><em>etidnefed<em> = justice, _auqa_ = life

**Pronunciation (words): **_seum = _say-om, _nonsungam_ = nons-on-gahm,  
>ireup = ee-ray-opp, <em>Erecniv-Alleb <em>= ay (like in day)-rake-neev – al-layb,  
><em>Sitnegni<em> = seet-nayg-knee, _Retsigam_ = rayt-see-gahm, _sitrom_ = seet-roam,  
><em>etidnefed = <em>ayteed (like eighty with a d)-any-fayd, _auqa =_ ow-car.

**Pronunciation (names): **Myrand = mur-rand, Clinn = like clean,  
>Nyandeil = knee-and-el, Nogardimus = no-gard-ee-moose,<br>Nathanos = Nayth-are-noose, Nicolibus = Nick-oh-lee-boose,  
>Jaredatus = Jared-are-toose, Anacra = a-knack-rose<p> 


End file.
